Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince
by Crimson Tides
Summary: After the death of the last father figure in his life, Harry Potter is much more determined to set things right. Harry's powers are growing, Dumbledore seems worried, Voldemort's got a plan, and you'll never guess who the new Defense professor is...
1. A Boring Summer

**AN**: I'm going to attempt to make this as JK-like as possible, so don't blow your heads off at me on how I 'don't need to fill you in.' I'm only going to briefly explain things, and all the explaining is going to be in this one chapter. Please review, it would make me infinitely happy.

There is **no** Mary-Sue, **not** a super power Harry fic, **no** slash, not much romance. Slight Hermione/Ron, and I might have Harry/Ginny. Why don't you vote whether you want Harry/Ginny in this fic? I don't do slash, so don't suggest it.

And the fact that I own Harry Potter would be about as truthful as my dog being the President of the United States. (Does anyone actually read the stupid disclaimers? It's not like JK would stroll onto fanfiction.net and sew me…)

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It was a humid, sunny day and Harry Potter was currently sitting on the curb at Magnolia Crescent, staring at the garage door of number two where he had first encountered Sirius, his recently deceased godfather. Harry's eyes had suddenly felt dry, and a burning feeling started to work its way up his throat. Harry blinked rapidly, but didn't move his head.

He did not care that the residents of number two were watching him warily out the window, exceptionally worried that the 'incurably criminal boy' was ogling at their house.

Harry Potter was not an ordinary boy; he attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, owned an invisibility cloak along with an expensive broom, and had a curse scar on his forehead where he could feel his enemy's emotions.

However, his Aunt and Uncle were very determined to stay as normal as they possibly could, and told the neighbors that Harry attended St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. This was not the only reason that the neighbors disliked Harry—he resided in a neighborhood where nearly everybody wore crisp suits and florally dresses, and Harry was dressed as though he got his clothes from a homeless center. Baggy jeans held up with a ratty belt, an old off-white undershirt, and trainers with the soles hanging on by a thread.

This did not bother Harry the slightest—he hardly considered himself a part of the muggle world, and he presented himself much better at Hogwarts in his perfectly normal robes. Harry continued to stare at the garage door, picturing the image of Padfoot that had scared Harry out of his wits only three years ago until he saw one of the residents of number two reaching slowly for the phone.

He stood up very suddenly, and walked towards the park with his fists clenched, hoping that they decided against calling the police when Harry left. Of course, there wasn't really much of a case. Who would be sent to jail for staring at a house?

Harry stuffed his hands in his pocket, and looked up at the sky. "Why did you have to go and get killed?" He asked an imaginary Sirius.

Harry half expected the clouds to form the smiling face of his godfather, or at least to form Sirius's Animagus form, but was greeted with nothing. He kicked a rock angrily, and sat down on a bench settled before a muddy man-made pond by the park.

"Hey Big D! Good job beating the crap out of that Evans kid!"

"Yeah! He won't be disrespecting the Dudster anymore!"

Harry snorted loudly. _Dudster?_

"Hey you, kid, you got something to say?"

Harry wheeled around, and said, "Yeah, I've got something to say. Shut your hole."

"Ooh, you shouldn't have said that."

"Big D will make tuna out of your face!"

"I'd like to see him try," Harry replied coolly, then egged Dudley on. "Comon' Big D, make tuna out of my face."

He smiled as Dudley fidgeted. "He's not worth my time," Dudley grunted, and stalked off.

"But Dud, he _dissed _you!"

"And he isn't worth my time!" Dudley shouted, "Drop it!"

Harry muffled a laugh. He knew it wouldn't be wise to pick on Dudley, but he hardly cared anymore. Soon the gang was long gone, and Harry was bored. Harry sighed as he glanced towards the sun descending into the horizon, and retreated back towards his 'home.'

As Harry entered the living room and headed towards the staircase, his uncle shouted, "Boy!"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked.

"Your Aunt has been looking for you all day! You were supposed to de-weed the garden!"

"Sorry."

"That's—all right—just do it tomorrow," Vernon said in a strangled sort of voice. Harry smirked; knowing Vernon would rather rip out his own hair than let Harry shirk his chores, and ran upstairs. Vernon had been given threats to treat Harry properly, and Harry noticed his Uncle treaded very carefully around Harry, trying to avoid making his nephew angry.

Hedwig hooted in greeting as Harry entered. There was an unopened package with a note attached to it on Harry's desk.

"Thanks," Harry said absentmindedly to Hedwig. Hedwig nipped his ear affectionately, and Harry tossed her an owl treat. Satisfied, she flew back to her cage.

Harry opened the note first.

Dear Harry,

The item contained in the package is a pensieve. Yes, it is my own, but I feel that you might need it more than I do. I have left some memories I have of your parents for you to explore, and Remus has contributed a few for you as well. DO NOT use the pensieve to help you forget; that is quite possibly the worst thing you could do to yourself.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Harry sent Dumbledore a thank you, (and said sorry for destroying his office as a postscript), then eagerly opened the package. Sure enough, it contained Dumbledore's old pensieve.

He looked around, as if worried someone would see him, then prodded the silvery substance in the basin. It swirled, and Harry looked inside, and was pulled into the memory…

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"Oi, Professor!" Harry whirled around to see his father, along with his mother, shout to Dumbledore. They were in Hogwarts, but it looked as though his father had already graduated.

"Yes, James?" Dumbledore asked.

"We're getting married! Want to come?"

James and Lily were both beaming. Harry wondered how they could be so happy together when they absolutely hated each other in their fifth year.

"Absolutely," replied Dumbledore, a touch of his smile on every wrinkled line on his face. "It's about time."

James grinned, and Lily flicked his ear. "You know how annoying it is when every night he comes up and tells me, 'I told you you'd fall in love with me.'" Lily asked Dumbledore. "He's such a prat."

"But it's true, isn't it?" James nagged her. Dumbledore chuckled lightly at the two's antics, and Lily rolled her eyes. "That's not it, by the way," James added to Dumbledore.

"We're expecting," said Lily, placing her hand on her stomach.

"Oh, really?" Dumbledore asked, surprised. "Congratulations."

They both smiled. "It's a boy, and we're naming him Harry. He's due in about seven months."

"And I'll bet he be awesome at Quidditch," said James. Lily rolled her eyes again, muttering about Quidditch obsessions.

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. "I have no doubt that he will be. And a great wizard, too."

Lily smiled wistfully. "Yeah…he's going to be wonderful. I can feel it."

"Any child of mine is bound to be a great wizard," James replied. Lily laughed.

"If you say so."

* * *

The image swirled, and Harry found himself back in his room. He longed to watch another memory, but decided he'd rather save it for another day; he didn't want to watch all the memories at once.

Harry decided to put a memory of his own in it. He placed his wand to his temple, and concentrated hard on the prophecy. As he pulled the wand away from his head, a thin, silvery strand was attached to his wand. Harry put his wand into the pensieve, and the image of Trelawney swirled into the basin.

Harry realized that the memory itself seemed to be gone from his head. He remembered what the prophecy was, by word, but the picture of Trelawney's face was no longer there. Harry smiled, and was about to put every single painful memory of his into the swirling basin, but remembered Dumbledore's words.

Was he really depressed enough to throw his memory of Sirius's death into the pensieve, never to be looked at again? Harry stared at the pensieve, and decided he would rather remember.

Harry looked at the clock, noticing it was almost midnight. It would be his birthday soon. Harry sat patiently on his bed, and cleaned his glasses as he waited for the owls. As Harry slid his glasses back on his nose, he saw what looked like an excited brown tennis ball flying for his window. He quickly slid the window open, afraid that Pig would run into it.

Hedwig gave a hoot of abhorrence to the tiny, twittering owl that shot into the room and began to flutter around Harry's head.

Harry snatched pig out of the air as if it were a snitch, and ripped the letter and small package off of Pig's leg.

Harry,

Happy birthday! I can't wait for you to come next week; it's just not as fun without you. Hermione and I have found out quite a lot about You-Know-Who, Fred and George have invented undetectable extendable ears that can hear from a ten-foot radius. Its amazing they only got six Owls between them. Mum has seemed to change her mind about the whole joke shop thing ever since Fred and George brought home fifty galleons so mom could afford first-hand books and robes for us, for once. Fred and George have also helped me buy your birthday present, just so you know.

Cheers!

Ron

Harry opened the package and found a compact-sized foe glass. Shadowy figures moved inside of it, but Harry couldn't see the whites of any of their eyes. He sent Ron a thank you with Pig, and discovered another large tawny owl flying towards his window. There were two notes and three small packages, but it was a rather large owl and seemed to bear the load with ease. Harry untied the noted from it along with the packages, and sent the owl on its way. He unrolled Hermione's letter first.

Hey Harry!

Errol passed away, unfortunately, so this is the Weasley's new owl, Plato. Crookshanks seems to detest him, and I can't understand why; Plato is such a sweet bird. I hope you have had a wonderful birthday. Ron told me what he got you; I bet that would be very useful. I hope you find my gift useful as well. It is new, so you shouldn't have come across it yet.

I hope you're okay, and I can't wait for you to join us.

Love, Hermione

Hermione sent him a pocketbook (of course,) _A Portable Guide on Defense and Strategy._

Mrs. Weasley sent him a card that sang Happy Birthday, along with a small cake and a box of cookies.

Soon, Harry was flooded by owls, and had gotten several books and dark-detector items. From the order, a book on Animagi and Metamophmagi, from Luna, a bracelet of Butterbeer caps, and Fred and George sent him an array of pranks.

From Ginny, he received watch much like the clock the Weasley's had, except the hands said the names, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna, and the hands were all set to 'home'. It was really hard to read considering the words were scrunched to fit, but if Harry looked close enough he could see the lettering just fine. He privately thought that it would be the most useful gift of them all.

Harry sent Ginny a very enthusiastic thanks, and asked her if she made it herself.

Overall, Harry felt he had a great birthday. Feeling much better than he had before, he flicked off the light and went to bed.

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Please review, and tell me what you think! Personally, I want to have a story I'm inclined to finish.


	2. Kingsley Capture

AN: You need to understand that the reason Harry didn't dump all his bad memories into the pensieve is because he needs to remember. You can't just go and forget all of your bad memories because you don't like them; including the pensieve isn't a method for forgetting. As Dumbledore said, the pensieve is supposed to help clear your thoughts if you feel that your mind is too crowded.

And I guess I don't really know where this story is going yet. There's going to be a climax and a plot and all that…but this is just the beginning of what I hope is a large story. If any one has any suggestions, feel free to tell me. Bah, I can't believe I have a writer's block already…even if it is only a minor one. I'm such a novice.

Also, I'm not too sure about the pairing now…about the only pairings I stand by are Harry/Ginny or Harry/Luna. Tonks just seems too old, Cho is too whiney, Hermione just…no, and I don't see Harry dating any Slytherin. I'm very picky usually. And most people don't seem to like Harry/Ginny, so…I'll think about it. I'm not much of a romantic person anyway. ;) Okay, sorry for rambling and boring you all to your deaths.

Thanks for all of the reviews!

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"Wormtail…your impertinence is beginning to get on my nerves. How could you have failed the simple task of destroying a town of sleeping wizards?"

"I-I am sorry My Lord, we underestimated them…expected them to be defenseless." Replied Wormtail, bowing nervously.

"Fool!" Voldemort exclaimed, eyes flashing. "Did we at least have any_ gain at all from the trouble we went through? Or was it a complete failure on your behalf?"_

"We—we did manage to catch someone who might provide useful information about the ministry…with a little persuasion, of course." Wormtail added, seeming slightly more confident.

"Who is this person?"

"I-I think his name was Kingsley Shacklebolt…"

"Interesting…"

"He is also an active member of the Order, My Lord."

"Is he now? Maybe sending you imbeciles there wasn't so useless after all…"

"T-Thank you, master," Wormtail stuttered, and dropped to the ground to kiss Voldemort's robes.

"Leave me," Voldemort told him, snatching his robes away and walking towards the fire. "I wish to be alone."

"Of course," Wormtail murmured.

* * *

Harry Potter woke up and took a deep, shuddering breath. He had been surprised when he found himself in a vision—he hadn't seen one since he was at Hogwarts. Harry took out a quill, ink, and some parchment, and hastily wrote a note to Dumbledore. __

Dear Professor,

I think Kingsley Shacklebolt has been taken hostage, but I'm not entirely sure. I don't really see why Voldemort would try to trick me again; I'm not stupid enough to fall for the same thing twice.

I just thought you should know.

-Harry

Harry prodded Hedwig, (who opened one eye blearily and nipped angrily at his finger for waking her up,) and sent the letter with her.

Harry now felt restless as his anxiousness over the situation wormed its way uncomfortably through his gut. Harry sighed, pulled out a book from the loose floorboard under his bed, and started to read. The sun had just begun to rise when Harry saw a something flying in the horizon.

It took Harry a few moments to realize it was a white owl–most likely Harry's own, heading for his house. Harry opened the window and patiently waited for Hedwig to reach him. Hedwig fluttered through Harry's window, landed on his desk, and stuck out her leg, letting Harry remove the note attached.

Dear Harry,

Thank you for alerting me on this matter. It turns out that Kingsley is indeed missing. However, it is still crucial that you practice Occlumency, because Voldemort still holds the power to possess you.

Please stay happy, Harry, I know for a fact that is what Sirius would want for you. Stay strong, too, for without strength, we will surely fail.

Remus will be picking you up today early, expect him around noon.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

He was glad that he got to leave the Dursley's early, but Harry found himself annoyed with Dumbledore. How could he possibly know what Sirius wanted? Sirius was dead! He scowled, and stretched out on his bed.

Harry recalled flashes of recent dreams where Sirius fell beyond the veil, the brief moment of terror on his face before he fell, that changed quickly to anger directed at Harry. Sirius had yelled to Harry, "it's all your fault!" just before he had fallen, then everyone that surrounded Harry changed into the faces of people who had died because of him, all of them telling him it was his fault.

Don't think about that, Harry scolded himself, but found that he couldn't. He bit his lip, still watching the scenes flashing by in his subconscious. The first time he was witnessed the dream, his face had been stark white, and he sat on his bed in stunned silence. Now he was used to it.

Harry felt greatly burdened, as any normal person would've been; over the prophecy, Voldemort, Sirius, Cedric, Dumbledore, Hogwarts, his parents…but the thing he felt terrible about being burdened by were his friends. Harry felt like he had to work just to make them understand him last year and now he felt like they were only going to get killed for being his friends in the first place.

Harry decided to quit mulling over his depressing thoughts and he went to pack his trunk. He began to rummage through it to check that everything was there.

"Ow!" Harry exclaimed, a broken piece of glass wedged in his finger. He pulled the glass shard out gently and looked inside his trunk. There lay the remains of the broken mirror that Sirius and Harry's father had used to communicate when they were in school.

What gave me the right to destroy it? Harry thought. He decided he would fix it once he got back to Hogwarts.

Now that he thought about it, everything Sirius had given to him was either taken or destroyed. His Firebolt was chained in the Hogwarts dungeons, the knife had melted, and he shattered the mirror…

Harry sighed and sat on his bed, which moaned in protest. Harry stared at a stain on the wall until finally, the Dursley's woke up. Harry sat up quickly and ran down the stairs.

"Slow down, boy!" Aunt Petunia shouted.

"Er—sorry, I just needed to tell you that one of my friends is coming to pick me up today at noon."

"WHAT?" She screeched in terror, dropping her washcloth, "One of those—those—freaks?"

Harry regarded her with an irritated look. "He was one of my professors."

Petunia looked around her house as though she would spot neighbors squatting behind her sofa eavesdropping, then snapped at Harry, "he'd better leave quick, I don't want one of…your lot hanging around here. Having one around here is enough already."

"I'd highly doubt he'd want to stay for tea," Harry replied sardonically.

Petunia scowled at him, picked the washcloth off the ground, then returned to the kitchen. Harry heard fragments of her muttering: 'freaks,' 'destroying the house,' and 'dressed like hippies.'

Remus arrived in brown trousers and a plain white shirt—Harry didn't think he looked bad at all compared to his usual tattered robes, but the Dursley's seems to think otherwise. Harry could see the sneer working it's way up his Aunt's face, and the way his Uncle's face grew slightly red.

Harry embraced Lupin, which only made his uncle's face redden more. Lupin smiled lightly, ignoring the Dursley's.

"How are you doing?" He asked. Harry instantly knew whom he was indirectly speaking of.

"Fine," Harry mumbled and hastily changed the subject, "Want me to get my things?"

"I'll help."

On the way up the stairs, Lupin told Harry quietly (so the Dursley's wouldn't hear) that he would be taking Harry to Mrs. Figg's, and they would Floo over to Grimmauld Place.

"Will Kreacher be there?" Harry asked as they entered his room, trying to keep his voice from wavering.

"No, Dumbledore's modified his memory to the point where he can barely recognize his own name. He's been sent to Mungos."

"Good," Harry said coldly. Remus did not respond; he only grabbed Harry's trunk, and Harry took Hedwig's cage.

They left the house and the Dursley's acted as if they were no longer there. Petunia was humming as she cleaned the kitchen, Dudley was eating a bag of chips in front of the television, and Vernon was sipping his coffee, reading the newspaper. Lupin and Harry walked across the street silently to Mrs. Figg's, and Lupin rapped on her door roughly when they got there. The door creaked open instantly.

"Remus! Great to see you," She said brightly, "and you too, Harry. Come in, come in."

She was wearing her tartan slippers and a rather moldy looking green robe. She ushered them inside.

"Can I offer you two anything? Tea? Biscuits? Maybe crackers, I'm sure I have crackers somewhere…"

"That's quite alright, Arabella, but we need to hurry and get Harry to Grimmauld."

Harry felt a rushing gratitude towards Lupin, who saved him from the stale biscuits and cold, flavorless tea.

"Oh, alright then. The fireplace is back there," she stuck her thumb in the direction of the door behind her.

"Thank you," Lupin replied, smiling warmly. He beckoned Harry to follow him, and pulled a small pouch from his pocket.

"You go first. Make sure you say 'Grimmauld Place,' very clearly."

Harry nodded, and Lupin tossed some Floo powder from the pouch into the flame. The fire roared and turned an emerald green, which Harry anxiously stepped into. He closed his eyes and hugged Hedwig's cage to his chest. "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!"

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I'll bet the last bit was boring for you to read, as it was for me to type. Please continue the friendly reviews!


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